Another Question in Another Hall
by DumbHumanLikeYou
Summary: Kurt finds himself back in the McKinley locker room while waiting to pick Finn up from practice. Enter Karofsky, with a question. It's not the question Kurt was expecting to hear.


Finn Hudson wasn't the best at coordination. He could only focus on one thing at a time while he was on the move, or something would drop and break or he'd find himself splayed out on the floor. Therefore, it didn't come as a surprise to him or anyone around him when he entered the locker room carrying his backpack, gym bag, winter coat, glee club sheet music, drumsticks, and a basketball while trying to balance his cell phone between his ear and shoulder, and promptly tripped over a bench.

The guys of the basketball and hockey teams laughed as he struggled to keep his balance. "What? No, I'm fine, I just tripped, go on," he said into the phone as he tried to open his locker. Mike Chang reached over and put in Finn's combination for him (10-20-30; Finn was really bad at memorizing more complex codes) and opened the door.

Finn nodded his thanks before letting out a small gasp.

"Really? That's awesome, man! I'll be sure to tell the guys in glee."

"Tell the guys in glee what?" Mike asked, as Sam and Puck turned towards Finn. He quickly shoved his stuff into his locker and gestured towards the phone.

"Kurt got a solo."

The glee jocks clapped and shouted compliments into the phone, which Finn had held out towards the group. Behind them, Azimio made a loud comment about Kurt performing certain sexual acts as his "audition", and his hockey cronies laughed along with him. Finn pulled the phone back to his ear as the rest of the glee guys glared at Azimio.

"Kurt said 'screw you, Azimio and Karofsky'," Finn said, trying to mimic Kurt's attitude before turning away and finishing up the conversation with his brother. Azimio flipped Hudson off behind his back while Dave Karofsky slammed his locker door shut, pissed that he was called out when he hadn't even laughed.

"You're still picking me up after practice, right, dude? Should be done around five thirty; family dinner's not until seven, right? …okay, see you Kurt. Congrats on the solo."

When five-thirty crept around, the end of practice was nowhere in sight. Bieste and the coach of the hockey team had joined up for the day and made the boys run sprints on the track in the freezing early March weather and do push-ups and crunches until they were sore. Finn and his teammates hadn't even touched a ball until nearly five. And just when he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, Puck had to open his big fat mouth and talk back to Coach Bieste. Her response was to end practice with alternating laps and free throws until every person had made thirty baskets.

Kurt dragged himself into the gymnasium at five of six, after spending the last half hour listening to his dying iPod in the driver's seat of his Navigator. Once Gaga had been cut off from him, he went on the search for his brother. After almost getting mowed over by a group of sprinting ball players, he spotted Finn.

After missing his third basket in a row, Finn saw his brother silently ask him what was taking so long, and jogged over to Kurt, where he began to do his ten pushups – the punishment for missing a free throw.

"Puck pissed Beiste off," he panted. "We have to make thirty baskets before we can go home."

"How many have you made so far?"

"Eight."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm going to go steal your iPod and wait in the car for you. And call Dad telling him we're going to be late."

Nodding, Finn got to his feet. "It's in my locker," he said, taking off around the perimeter of the court.

Kurt made his way towards the locker room, slapping Mike's hand as his former classmate ran by him. He had stopped for a moment when entering the room – nothing about the space brought back good memories, only thoughts of Karofsky and suffering through half a season of football to please his father. He inhaled deeply and pushed those thoughts away, straightening his tie and making his way through Finn's unorganized mess of a locker. After finally locating his brother's iPod, Kurt put the earphones in and began scrolling for some music that wasn't country or straight from the eighties. Locating a playlist named "R&F Love Songs 3", Kurt closed his eyes and sighed, letting Phantom of the Opera fill him up.

A hand on his shoulder minutes later brought him out of his reverie. He turned around slowly, eyes opening to see Karofsky's face less than a foot away.

Kurt shrieked and jumped back, falling hard on the ground as he tripped over one of the benches. Scrambling his feet, he yanked the ear buds out and stared at Karofsky while trying to calm down his breathing.

"What..." he began, chest still heaving from the shock, "do you want from me?"

Dave Karofsky stood still, stunned by the panic attack he had just witnessed.

"Well?" Kurt spat, anger and confidence replacing fear, now that his bully was halfway across the locker room.

"I wanted to ask you a question."

Kurt hung his head, shaking it back and forth. "No. No, no, _no_, I haven't told anyone. I'm not planning on telling anyone. Can you leave me alone now?"

He looked up at the jock, waiting for an insult or a basketball to be hurled at him. Karofsky just stood there, mumbling something.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't understand you. You need to speak English, not troll."

"I said, 'that wasn't the question'," Dave spat, face turning red as he stared at the linoleum.

Kurt was confused, but refused to let any weakness show. "Then what was the question?"

The question was asked with such speed that most people would have missed it. Kurt, who had long gotten used to having conversations with Rachel Berry, heard it perfectly. It was the shock that had overwhelmed him upon hearing the statement that caused him to ask for a repeat.

"How did you come out to your parents?" Karofsky repeated, this time slower and quieter. Hearing it the second time didn't ebb Kurt's shock away at all.

"I, um… wow." Kurt gulped, at a loss for words for the first time in a while. "I… no one's asked me that before."

The numbness of the shock overpowered his defenses towards his former bully, and he found himself walking towards the locker room door, gesturing for Karofsky to follow him. Upon seeing the jock's apprehensive look, he rolled his eyes.

"Would you rather have this conversation here, when all the basketball players are just finishing up practice?"

Kurt's Neanderthal followed him down the hallway, where Kurt pulled out his keys and located the red one on the ring, opening the locker room reserved only for Cheerios.

"_Sue's Corner_ films tonight," he explained. "No one's going to be in here."

Kurt walked over to one of the red armchairs in the plush locker room, gesturing for Karofsky to take the one on the opposite side of the room. Watching the jock sit down, Karofsky's beady eyes never leaving him, Kurt's fear began to seep back into his veins as the shock finally dissipated. _I'm in an empty room with the_ _man who threatened to kill me,_ he thought. _Finn doesn't know I'm in here. No one knows anyone is in here. Karofsky could kill me right here and now and no one would know until Cheerios practice Monday morning. _

But on top of all that fear, Kurt couldn't help but feel curious as to why Karofsky would want to know how he came out. Maybe it was because Karofsky _himself_ was planning on coming out. After Blaine's attempt to intervene on the bullying months ago, Kurt thought Karofsky coming to terms with anything in high school was impossible. Then again, he had thought someone like Blaine falling in love with him was impossible, too.

"So," he began, voice echoing though the room. "What would you like to know?"

Karofsky shrugged, slouching in the seat. "How you did it. When you did it. Stuff like that, I guess."

Kurt eyed him, still feeling a little suspicious. "This isn't going to end up in Jacob Ben Israel's blog, is it?"

Karofsky scoffed, shaking his head.

"Or be used against my dad or Finn in any way?"

This time Karofsky was more serious when he shook his head. Kurt sighed.

"September 24, 2009."

"You remember the exact day?" Karofsky asked.

"It's not exactly a day you forget." Kurt fiddled with the hem of his blazer. "I remember everything about it. Every last detail, down to what color hat my dad was wearing when I told him.

"It was right after we had won our first football game," he began, grimacing at the memory of being on the team. Karofsky let out a single chuckle.

"That was the gayest thing I've ever seen. I mean, _Single Ladies_?"

Kurt smiled a bit, deciding not to chastise Karofsky for referring to something as "gay". In truth, he himself used to call certain songs Mr. Schuester picked "gay", but that was before he had come to terms with calling himself gay.

"Yeah, it was a little… _ridiculous_. I only joined the team in the first place because Brittany told my dad I was kicker. Never let Brittany tell your parents anything."

Karofsky just looked at him, waiting for the story.

"Well, after the game I was in my room getting ready for bed, and my dad comes down the stairs. He tells me how proud he is that I won the game. We said our goodnights and he was about to leave, and then it just hit me: I had to tell him. I didn't plan it out or anything, and up until that point I wasn't even sure if I was going to tell him any time soon. But, the moment felt right, you know?"

Shrugging, Karofsky looked anywhere but at Kurt. The Dalton boy felt the urge to ask him if he had ever had one of those moments, where coming out seemed like an option. But this wasn't about Karofsky's flight from the closet right now. This was about Kurt giving him an insight into the possibility of being open.

"So, I stood up and said it."

Karofsky raised an eyebrow. "You just said: 'Goodnight, dad. By the way, I'm into dudes'?"

"Not like that," Kurt scoffed. "Actually, I kind of beat around the bush for a while, telling him about how football and glee club had made me see the possibilities, that I can be whoever I want to be, waxing poetic like that. And I told him I didn't want to lie anymore.

"I said, what I am is… that I'm gay." He sniffed and wiped a tear from his cheek. He had recounted his coming-out story to a few people, namely Mercedes, Rachel and Blaine, but he had always done so willingly and lightly, being proud of the moment. Now, sitting ten feet away from someone who had asked him to reveal that instant, wanted to know what was going through his head and his heart at such a pivotal and terrifying time made Kurt relive the fear that he father might not have accepted him for being homosexual.

"What'd he do?"

Karofsky's voice was barely a whisper. Kurt looked up to see the jock concerned and scared, not unlike that split second after their lips had touched those many months ago.

"He… told me that he knew. That he's known for a while. Since I was three."

There was no mistaking the disappointment in Dave Karofsky's face.

"I'm sorry," Kurt whispered. "I know I had it easy. Not many people's parents are so accepting.

"But you should know… that it's not your job to hide who you are just to please them. They're your parents, and they're supposed to love you for whoever you are. That's what my dad tells me."

"And your mom?"

Kurt smiled sadly. "She died when I was eight. Two days after I told my dad, I went to the cemetery and told her. Well, said it to her gravestone. That probably sounds really pathetic. But I thought she should know, too.

"It was a lot easier saying it to her," he said, laughing dryly at the sad excuse of a joke. Karofsky didn't smile; he only looked confused and sad.

"I didn't know about your mom," he mumbled. After a minute of silence, he spoke up again.

"So, your dad was the first one you told?"

"No, I told Mercedes first." Kurt suddenly began to laugh at the memory. "Long story short, Mercedes thought we were dating. I had to let her down, but I wasn't ready to tell her I was gay. So I –" he burst out laughing at the insanity of his actions.

"I told her I was madly in love with Rachel."

Dave groaned and began to laugh slightly, too. Even if he _did_ like girls, Rachel Berry would not be anywhere near the top of his list; she was so damn annoying.

"And then Mercedes threw a rock through my windshield. So eventually I had to tell her that I wasn't crushing on Rachel, but on a guy."

"Who?"

Kurt looked up at the question. It wasn't demanding or suspicious. It was just an honest question, as though Karofsky really wanted to know. Still, very few people knew he once fostered an obsession with the boy who was now his stepbrother (and by very few he meant his parents, Mercedes, Rachel and Finn himself), and he wasn't about to make that number increase. Blaine didn't even know.

"You don't get to know that," he said. "But let me just say that you should never convince yourself you can turn a straight guy gay. It doesn't happen."

Karofsky stared at the floor. After two minutes of silence, Kurt blurted out the question what had been on his lips since hearing the Neanderthal's original request.

"Are you thinking about telling people?"

The angry smirk of a mask was back with a force.

"No. I'm not…"

He looked at Kurt, realizing that this is the first day in his sorry life the boy didn't look at him with fear or anger. The mask fell.

"Maybe. I have no idea."

Kurt sighed, and reached into his pocket. Pulling out a pen and the receipt from his afternoon Starbucks latte, he began writing numbers down, surprising himself that he had the first two down by heart.

He took a deep breath and closed the distance between the two of them, extending his arm, receipt in hand. Karofsky warily took it.

"What are these?"

"The first one is the National LGBT Youth hotline. It's… just people who will talk to you about anything. And I mean anything. Even if you're just alone and need someone to bitch to about your day at school."

Karofsky grumbled intelligibly.

"The second one is the GSA at Ohio State. They're actually pretty cool about having high school kids participate in activities and such." Upon seeing Karofsky's confusion, he clarified, "GSA means Gay-Straight Alliance."

"Ohio State is like, two hours away."

Kurt winced. "Sorry, I forgot. It's only twenty minutes away from Dalton. But, two hours away means less chance of running into someone you may know. Just food for thought there."

Dave ran his thumb over the third and final number, recognizing the local area code. He gestured to it silently, and Kurt stared at the floor as he answered.

"It's mine."

Dave Karofsky could safely say he had never been more shocked in his life.

"But if you use that number for anything other than calling for help, if I end up getting prank calls or find out it's been written in a public restroom next to 'call for a good time', I will unleash my own version of _The Fury_. Got that?"

Karofsky nodded, knowing he wasn't going to abuse something as precious as Kurt's number, willingly given to him. Said phone number received a call, and Kurt took a few steps back to answer.

"Hey Finn. Sorry, I got bored waiting for you. I've been… in the choir room, just reminiscing, and maybe doing a little spying. I'm on my way to the car now."

Kurt straightened his tie and headed towards the door, turning at the last moment to face Karofsky.

"Good luck. I… I mean it." He gave his former bully a small reassuring smile before leaving.

Dave sat in that red chair for the next twenty minutes, staring at Kurt's neat handwriting. _Maybe, just maybe, _he told himself, _I could do this_.


End file.
